Daydreams
by Owls The Sailor
Summary: It was late, nearly midnight, but the crew, sent by the Royal British Institute for the Care of Magical Creatures to investigate magical diversity in the Congo, was still awake. On a normal day, Luna wouldn't have minded the late night; however, today had been decidedly not normal, even for her, and she beginning to be tired of it.
1. Avis

_Dearest Reader,_

 _Thank you, ever so much for looking into this story. For now, it is a one-shot, but soon I hope to make it a bit of a drabble series on Luna and Rolf's relationship over the years. I hope you enjoy it, and leave a comment (they are each much appreciated)._

 _Hoots,_

 _Owls_

 _P.S - this was 825 words, and used the prompt avis (spell) from the Qudditch Pitch and Drabble Club._

* * *

" _Avis."_ The birds started to spout from the tip of Luna's wand, swirling and billowing like the smoke of a muggle London stackhouse from the early 1900's. They were graceful and elegant, sailing through the clingy tropical air of the rainforest in their shifting cluster.

When the flock finished spewing from her wand, Luna brought her knees to her chest. She wrapped her arms around her legs and looked up, watching her conjured birds dart and chirp, looping lazily against the canopy of trees and stars.

Her blue eyes followed their every move, sparkling in the moonlight, that flickered in the pool of green water before her. There was a short waterfall leading into it, drowning out much of human noise behind her.

It was late, nearly midnight, but the crew, sent by the Royal British Institute for the Care of Magical Creatures to investigate magical diversity in the Congo, was still awake. On a normal day, Luna wouldn't have minded the late night; however, today had been decidedly not normal, even for her, and she beginning to be tired of it.

To begin, Cassandra, Luna's roommate and the only other female zoologist on the team, woke up screaming and waving a copy of the Daily Prophet. Cassandra's scream was very shrill, much like her normal voice but about twenty decibels higher. "Newt Zamander's grandzon is going ze expedition, et iz why we've been held up for monthz," she had said gleefully, in her french accent.

The paper surprisingly hadn't lied, and soon enough Rolf Scamander was at their hotel, a crowd of photographers and fans behind him, asking about his new book (mainly when it would be published) and if he was hoping to further his grandfather's research. The young man, looked tired and worn out– a fact that wasn't helped by the shrill Cassandra's attempts at flirting; he wanted nothing more than to leave, so Professor Gorsome, the lead scientist, decided to push through into the jungle and set up camp that day. They didn't finished until well in the evening, when everyone and everything seemed to be annoying. That was probably why they were having a party, which didn't quite make sense to Luna considering at a party you are supposed to be not annoyed with everyone you are with.

Luna wasn't big on parties anyways. She liked solitude, but people were also nice to be around especially when they didn't have Cassandra's voice or laugh or hair flipping.

The white-haired girl puffed out her cheeks leaning her chin down to her knees; her birds flying low to the water now, some skimming their wings in it as they passed and started to dart in and out of the waterfall. Her eyes had yet to give up chase on the birds though her thoughts had led her elsewhere.

She liked how free birds seemed to be, as cliche as that sounds. They were light and unanchored. The cares they had were so few, and they were so beautiful and small. A bird could do anything it wanted really, but Luna couldn't.

The witch reached out her fingers to touch them, smiling as the flock moved towards her in a swift cloud, surrounding her. Their feathers grazed her skin where her sleeves were rolled up and her bare feet and the nape of her nake where only wisps of white hair curled from her ponytail. She laughed, part of the tiring day leaving her, as she closed her eyes and just felt the breeze and motion of the world.

She was light and free, flying above the treetops. She was singing and laughing. There was nothing there to stop her or to catch her if fell. It was dangerous, but completely freeing. Her wings were spread wide for the world to see as she passed them by.

Her mind had fully gone to that place of freedom and flight, when her visitor arrived, holding two cups of the chef's 'special' drink in his hands.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kneeling down beside the girl. Luna's eyes fluttered open and met his, a blush spilling onto his cheeks.

She nodded. "Are you?"

"Yes, actually," he choked out. "You're missing the party. I thought I'd bring you something." He held out a cup. "I think… I know there is alcohol in it."

"Thank you," she said, taking the cup. "You like to be called Rolf, right?" Her eyes watching him over the cup. The birds had finally landed pecking at the rocks on the pools edge

He sat down next her, crossed legged and watching her profile. "Uh, yeah, and you're Lola, right."

"Luna. I believe Cassandra heard me wrong when I first introduced myself to her. She only calls me Lola."

"You can tell her."

Luna shrugged, taking a sip from her drink. The alcohol burning down her throat wasn't completely foreign.

"Do you like birds?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"Yeah."


	2. Dog

Dear Readers,

I write to you from the comfort of my new green armchair. It swivels and is totally awesome.

But now more seriously I thought I would tell you a little about this piece of Rolf/Luna. I really wanted to tell their story. Not just their love, but them. Who they are, why they are. I also really wanted to get into their magizoology careers, because that's how they met. I also figured it wouldn't happen straight away either because well... mostly because the waiting is wonderfully cruel.

Anywho, here's the gist of things.

Word count is 996

The prompt I used was dog from the quidditch pitch and drabble club.

Hoots,

Owls

P.S. Don't forget to leave a review if you liked this. I want to hear your feedback on this new way of doing things (the drabbe way).

* * *

Luna held her breath quietly in anticipation. What she was anticipating she had no idea, but it was there at the pit of her stomach reaching up into her throat. Luckily, the taste in her mouth wasn't metallic– as it would have been if she were vomiting– but rather a dry taste that she felt more than tasted really.

"Are you alright?" The smooth gentle voice of her colleague wormed through her ear. It didn't bring her out of her thoughts completely, but she made the effort to face the man.

Somehow her head nodded up and down, a sort of signal he accepted as a 'yes, she was fine'. But was she really? Well, she wasn't in pain or in danger or feeling bad. There was just something coming. She just didn't know what.

Luna turned from the old man who was a professor at Hogwarts for transfiguration or something even more obscure; she had never had him during her school year, so she didn't know exactly what the weathered but tall man taught. What she did know was that he was kind, in a way, having taken her under his wing to learn, but mostly, she fetched him things like paper and food.

"Could you find me Scamander? I want to compare notes with him on this…" He waved his hand vaguely to the latest project he was looking at. Luna didn't know what it was, but she was guessing the old professor didn't either and just wanted to speak with the young magizoologist. Luna nodded her head, not caring that he was as starstruck by Rolf Scamander like everyone else. The overall lack of integrity when it came to Rolf didn't faze her. It was only natural after all, and Rolf really was brilliant.

She left the area just outside the tent that was being used an ever expanding, every cluttered lab and headed in the direction that Rolf had gone exploring that morning. He wasn't the hardest person in the world to track down, all she had to do was shout his name a few times, playing a game trying to find where his return shouts came from.

A clearing was where she finally found him, leaning against a tree. His chin length hair pulled up behind his head and he was wearing nothing but shorts and a thin shirt. He was scribbling something in a leather bound book

"Luna," he glanced up from his journal, grinning at her. "You finally found me."

"Hello," Luna smiled back, walking towards him. She looked down at the journal seeing an upside down image. "Is that a dog?" The lines seemed to form together to create a sort of animal, at the very least.

"Yeah. Her name's Gypsy."

"Is she dead?"

"Not really, I just left her back at home with an old flame of mine." His chipper blue eyes, saddened at the thought.

"Oh," Luna shifted down to sit next to him. "Do you ever get to see her?"

"On occasion, if Chelsy ever feels like letting me near her house, which is once in a blue moon." He seemed to have to choke out her name, though he was trying to appear strong, so she let him.

"I never had a dog, only the odd frog that I would catch." Her voice was airy. "What was she like?"

"Really happy, all the time." He smiled at the picture of the dog though his eyes were far off. "She was always so excited to see and would barely leave my side."

"Isn't that kind of clingy?"

Rolf shook his head. "I didn't think so. My friends thought it was weird."

"Did you ever take her traveling?"

"No, I couldn't."

"Why?"

"She didn't want to go."

"And you didn't want to stay."

"Yeah." There was a deep sense of regret in that one word. Luna watched his face. It tensed. His eyes creasing, his brows drawing in, his lips pursing. Then he turned to her, and it all seemed to slip away.

"You must really miss that dog." She murmured.

Rolf nodded. And there was a moment of comfortable silence. He was watching her and she was watching him, thinking about what that meant.

"So did you come here needing something or did you just want to talk?" His eyes sparkled again with a familiar Scamander curiosity, but also his own patented mischief akin to that of the Weasley Twins, however, not entirely the same.

"The professor wants to compare notes with you."

He scrunched his nose. The professors always wanted to 'compare notes' but mostly just spoke down to him, trying to prove that they are more intelligent, or sucked up to him, trying to get into his next book. "About what?"

Luna shrugged. "I don't think he knows."

Rolf closed his journal suddenly, drawing Luna out of her lazy slouch. "How about this we go swimming and he just has to wait."

Luna's lips tugged into a small smile. "Cassandra will never shut up about it, if we do."

"But it's totally innocent."

"Cassandra glares at me until I fall asleep."

"Fine, I'll go." He stood, holding out his hand to her. Luna took it and let him pull her up. He didn't let go of her hand though, frowning. "You're feeling okay, right? You seem a little quieter than usual."

Luna tilted her head, taking her time to think on it. "I feel like something is about to happen and I don't know what. It's not a bad feeling, but it's there."

"Could it be that we're leaving soon."

Her eyes widened– that was it, she had completely forgotten.

Rolf laughed at her jaw-dropped expression. "How could you forget that we leave in three days." At that, Luna dropped his hand as though she were stung, and started walking towards camp.

"Please! Wait up, Luna. I didn't mean to laugh." He shouted behind her, breathless from laughing and running to catch up.


	3. Reparo

_Hello there lovely reader,_

 _I hope that you enjoy this next edition of Daydream. I'm really enjoying writing this little series, so I hope that you are having some fun with it too. I know that there are most likely some problems and I feel that my pacing might be a little wonky. But, this style also feels right; so, i'm gonna stick with it._

 _This is also in Rolf's POV, which I never really intended on getting into but fit into what I was planning anyway. Which is great, I love it when characters just write themselves._

 _Anywho, this is 716 words long, written using Reparo from both the Drabble Club and Quidditch Pitch_

 _Hoots, Owls_

 _P.S. Don't feel shy, if you liked it, please leave a review!_

* * *

The quill shop beside Madam Malkin's on Diagon Alley was always rather quiet. That's why Rolf liked it. No Daily Prophet reporters asking for his next book or nagging him about some woman he was supposedly sleeping with– _who was Pansy Parkinson, anyway_. It was his safe haven in the chaotic world that was Wizarding Britain. At least, when he was in Diagon Alley; if he ever went to the Ministry of Magic, that was another story altogether. The ashy-blond haired man shudder at the thought of ducking away constant from nosy politicians _and_ reporters.

He needed to be out in the wilds again, exploring the mountains of Central Asia or the islands in the South Atlantic or even better the Amazon Rainforest. Being in civilization was taking its toll on his psyche. He was starting to feel like a caged bird. And-

" _Ting,"_ the bell on the door jingled, signaling that another customer had entered the small shop.

Rolf cursed under his breath, an ink bottle slipping from his hand and onto the floor. He had thought that the woman who had just walked into the store had been Luna Lovegood, a woman he hadn't seen since the presentation of the Congo Expedition research months ago. But, it couldn't have been. She wouldn't be in a quill shop at two in the afternoon on a Thursday. Rolf bent down, adjusting the small pair of spectacles he wore when he was trying not to be noticed (plus, he needed them for reading sometimes, but he always failed to mention that).

" _Reparo_ ," a white-blonde head of long hair muttered, bending down with him to help pick the ink up. She looked up to smile at him, as if no time had passed at all.

"Luna?" Rolf grinned at her; a grin that so easily fit his lips only when she was around.

"Hello," the woman said softly back.

"So– uh, what have you been up to?"

Luna hummed lightly as though thinking about her answer while she siphoned the ink back into the bottle, but Rolf also thought it was because she liked that song: the chocolate frog jingle heard on the radio. "A few things," she offered vaguely.

"Any traveling?"

Luna shook her head, still humming. "I've been too busy running my father's magazine for that."

"Your father's magazine… the Quibbler, right?" Rolf, like every other self-respecting magizoologist, took the Quibbler to be hogwash, full of superstition and a very unique lack of scientific fact. But, Rolf respected the fact that Luna believed in and felt obligated to run such hogwash.

Luna nodded her head, closing the ink bottle and holding it out to him. "Have you been doing anything interesting, lately?" Her blue eyes meet his own for a split second and they were back in the jungle and he was calm. There was no little ball of anxiety in his stomach or the worries of having a novel to write. He was carefree and happy.

"I've been writing, mostly, so no, nothing interesting."

"No traveling? Really?"

Rolf chuckled, taking the bottle from her finally and placing it back on the shelf. "Nope, and probably not for a few more months either."

"That sounds terrible."

He shrugged. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

Luna giggled, shaking her head. Her eyes looking into him and through him but all around him at once.

"Say," Rolf began, shoving his hands into the pockets of his muggle jeans. "I've been asked to lead a research team in the Galapagos in a few months. You could join me if you'd like. You'd still have to be an intern, but you would get to travel."

Luna's smile widened. "That sounds lovely. Thank you, Rolf."

"I'll owl you about it then." She nodded, and his wand started to buzz in his hand (an alarm he set to remind him that he was probably late). "Great, uh, I have to get going now. I might or might not be late for an interview at Witch Weekly." He backed away into the door, Luna's laughing eyes the last things he saw before being pushed into the rush of Diagon Alley.


	4. Her Father

**_Hello Dear Readers,_**

 ** _So I wrote this a little differently than the others. It's Luna and her father, not Rolf and Luna which is kinda the point of this, but I was really enjoying developing Luna's character, so I did. I hope you guys enjoy._**

 ** _Anywho, this drabble is 759 words long. And uses the prompt Xenophilius Lovegood from the Quidditch Pitch and "Life is what happens to you while you're making other plans." - John Lenon from the Drabble Club (which Xenophilius says during the this, but I by no means claim to own those words)._**

 ** _Hoots,_ _Owls_**

* * *

Luna took a deep breath and sighed, pulling her arms tighter around herself. The soft fabric of her dressing gowned giving her comfort as she walked into her kitchen where her father was sitting, back to her and looking out the window at the moon.

"It's such a lovely night," he murmured as she pulled out a chair to sit across from him. His eyes were rimmed red and large bags sat heavily underneath them. Their youthful luster was gone, leaving behind a dead-ness that broke Luna's heart.

"Do you want some tea?" She asked into the chilled, early morning air. "Hermione told me about a new kind, that I think you'll like." Luna let a smile slip onto her face, hoping that he would respond in a somewhat logical manner.

"Your mother always loved to watch the stars." Xenophilius sighed and a few tendrils of his straggly white beard moved with it. "She was so beautiful. Just like you."

Luna bit her lip and stood up. "I'll make you some tea," she told him, knowing no logical response was coming. The father she once knew was gone and trying to get him back was no use. That's what the healers told her anyway.

"Your mother would have loved you so much, Luna." She shivered her back away from him. "You traveled the world; you've made something of yourself. That's all she ever wanted. It's what we wanted."

"How much sugar do you want, father?" Luna tried again, looking through the mess of a kitchen for the sugar, as the kettle started to whistle.

"I want you to know she loves you."

The blonde glanced back: her father's milky eyes watching the window, still, and his face was virtually unmoved except for his tear-stained cheeks.

"I know," she whispered. "You tell me every night."

Luna started to pour the tea into two mismatching cups. "I'm afraid we're out of milk. I'll get some tomorrow." She set the cup and saucer in front of the old man, but there was no response.

"I'm leaving for Brazil tomorrow," she added. "The Healer Jeffry will be around a few times a day to check on you as well as Julia, the new editor for _The Quibbler_. Jeffry is a little odd, but Julia is okay. She always carries around a clipboard: it makes people trust her."

Her father said nothing. Her father did nothing. Her father just sat there and stared out the window at the moon.

Luna hummed, taking her time to drink her tea and calm down. "I hope you'll be okay without me."

Then, he reached out a wrinkled spotted hand with long fingernails, gripping her own hand. His fingers were cold and didn't feel completely alive.

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." He told her.

Luna started crying. Her tears were silver with the reflection of the moon on her cheeks. His wrinkled hand swept a few droplets away and remaining on her cheek. She clutched his hand, leaving it on her cheek, feeling warmth in his cold fingers and his milky eyes and thinning white hair. For a moment she saw him, her father, the man who was strong for her. He was the man who later lent her his strength and who now was relying on hers. She didn't want to fail him. She didn't want to leave him. But, time was moving quickly for both of them.

"I love you," Luna murmured.

"I love you too."

OoOoO

"Long night?" Jeffry asked the next morning, a hand on his hip and an eyebrow raised. Luna was standing in the living room looking at herself in the glass while she pulled her hair up into a ponytail and tugged on her jacket simultaneously.

"What makes you say that?" Luna tilted her head, buckling her moth-bitten navy blue jacket from her school days.

"Your eyes are rimmed red and there are sizable bags; not to mention, that outfit of yours does not match- and aren't you going somewhere? Where's your language?" The man shot off in a single breath.

"They're upstairs." Luna run back up the spiral staircase, coming back down with a small suitcase for her eight months research trip to the Amazon Rainforest.

"Goodbye, father," she said, kissing her father as she passed his usual seat in the kitchen. The man only waved back.

"You better owl me any of gossip, if there is any-" Jeffry started to shout as threw the floo powder down, headed to meet her team.


End file.
